


Sunday at the Bunker

by ImpalaDreams (impaladreams)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Dean Winchester, Fluff, Gen, someone finally gave Cas a guinea pig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impaladreams/pseuds/ImpalaDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Completely unapologetic domestic fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday at the Bunker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelikerain611](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelikerain611/gifts).



“I think you missed a spot,” Dean teases from his seat at the table where he and Sam are busy researching.

Charlie turns around on the step stool she’s at the top of, feather duster in hand and puts her hands on her hips to purse her lips and stare down at Dean. “Well, if anyone else ever took care of it, I wouldn’t have to do this in the first place,” she chides but Dean sees the smile under her guise. He knows she loves dusting all the books though. It’s taken her all afternoon to get around the room because she keeps getting distracted and browsing them instead. On the table adjacent to him and Sam lie a few she’s picked out to look at more in depth, an 18th century book on magical mechanical engineering  sitting on the top. Dean has to remember to steal a look at that when she’s finished.

They hear the echo of the dryer buzzing from down the hall and Sam groans miserably. “I hate laundry.”

“We all hate it, Sammy,” Dean says, ignoring the subsequent grumbling from his brother as he trudges off. He returns moments later with two big armfuls of their communal laundry, towels and blankets and sheets. He places them on the empty table next to them and begins to fold the towels and smaller items first, stacking them next to the books Charlie has set as aside.

Dean turns back to the book he’s reading and picks up where he left off, trying to concentrate as Sam folds and Charlie dusts. He hears the light flutter of wings behind him but he’s still startled when he peeks over his shoulder and sees Castiel standing right behind him. “Cas! Personal space man!” he says but grins up the angel anyway.

“Dean. Hello,” Castiel says, sounding almost enthused. He greets Charlie and Sam as well.

“What brings you here?” he asks, shifting in his seat and happy for another distraction.

“I’ve been neglecting David,” Castiel says seriously, referring to the aptly named tiny guinea pig he’s keeping as pet at the bunker. “And I appreciate Charlie caring for him while I’ve been away.” 

He nods towards the red head and she just turns to give a little embarrassed smile and wave. “No problem, Cas,” she replies. “I already fed him this afternoon but he’s in his cage in my room if you want to visit.”

Castiel nods and looks like he’s about to head there before his eyes catch Sam struggling to fold a large sheet. He tilts his head in concern, watching the tall man fail to line up the corners for the second time. “Can I assist you, Sam?” he asks.

“Yeah, thanks,” he responds, handing half the sheet to Castiel and instructing him how to fold it.

Beside them, Charlie’s stomach growls as she descends from the step stool, finished dusting for the day. “Are you famished, Charlie?” Castiel asks with concern. “Did you forget to eat? I know when I was human it was so hard to remember to eat sometimes.”

“I didn’t forget to eat,” she says. “But I am getting hungry.” Her eyes flick over to Dean who looks up from his book.

“That’s good. Because I’m making your favorite tonight,” he smiles wickedly.

“Ugh, frozen pizza again?” she asks, regretting her previous decision to voice her annoyance at the frequent meal choice a few nights ago.

“Nope. Tacos!” He laughs when Charlie ignores him with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, but probably from a box, like the _pizza_ ,” Sam says, giving Dean his best judgmental look.

“Hey! I know how to make tacos!” Dean says, defending himself and his dinner that will be homemade. “I am the taco _king_!” he grins.

Castiel turns a confused eye to Dean as he and Sam finish the folding. “But you’re neither a Mexican nor a king.”

“Or into tacos nearly half as much as he pretends to be,” Charlie teases, sliding her books off the table. “C’mon, Goliath. Your David misses you.” Castiel follows behind her like a puppy to go pet the guinea pig and Dean gets up to go make dinner, leaving Sam to pick up the research where he left off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A while later they all hear Dean bellowing, “Dinner’s ready!” from the kitchen and go to join him, the tempting smell of tacos meeting them as they approach. Sam and Charlie eagerly take their places at the table but Castiel stands awkwardly in the doorway. “I should be going,” he says.

Dean turns, beer in one hand, a bowl of shredded cheese to top the tacos with in the other, and his face falls. “No, man, stay. I set you a place and everything.”

“Thank you, Dean. But you know I don’t eat.”

Dean shrugs. “So? Can’t you stay and hang out? Have some cervezas with us!” he says, wiggling his eyebrows and swigging from the Corona in his hand as he places the bowl on the table.

Castiel glances around the room at his friends who are all looking at him expectantly with a slight pleading in their eyes. He smiles, stoic features softening momentarily. “Alright. I’ll stay,” he says and takes his seat next to Dean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tacos are delicious. Dean only teases Charlie once more about how much she likes them and they all enjoy watching how many Coronas Castiel can down in one go, laughing when his vessel betrays him with a loud belch.

He helps do the dishes too. Even though he didn’t partake of the food, he rolls up the sleeves of his suit and trench coat and cleans them with warm soapy water, maybe using his grace to help speed the process along. Charlie stands by his side helping to dry as he finishes up. It’s not long before Sam and Dean appear back in the kitchen having wandered off earlier. They’re each gripping a DVD in their hand and arguing when they appear. “Ok, help us settle this. Alien?” questions Dean with a displeased look nodding his head towards the movie that Sam’s holding. “Or Hang ‘Em Dead?” he says smiling broadly and holding up his pick.

“Oh! Definitely Alien!” Charlie says enthusiastically. “Sigourney Weaver is so badass in that! ‘Get away from her you bitch!’” she quotes absolutely beaming at Sam’s choice.

“I know right! Settled then,” Sam says smugly.

“Hey, wait, no! Cas, do you have a say?” Dean asks and Castiel looks up at him somewhat surprised.

He walks closer and examines both of the DVD cases, appraising Dean’s second while standing maybe a little closer than he should. “I think I would prefer the western. I’ve heard a lot about Clint Eastwood,” he says, neglecting to mention everything he’s ever heard about Clint Eastwood has come from Dean’s mouth.

Sam sighs and rolls his eyes. He holds out his fist and looks to Dean who does the same. They rock paper scissor and Dean frowns at the result. “Dean with the scissors! AGAIN!” Sam roars and bounds out of the room.

Not long after they’re all settled in their makeshift living room. Charlie is sitting crossed legged on the couch flanked by Sam and Dean, a big bowl of popcorn sitting in her lap for sharing. Dean watches them all: Sam still nursing his beer and smiling as the movie begins to roll, Charlie wide eyed and absentmindedly snacking on the popcorn, and then Castiel. Castiel is sitting in front of Dean on the couch who has his legs curled up underneath of him so they're not in the angel’s way. Dean watches as he shifts his shoulders a bit, shaking and adjusting them and he wonders how far the angel’s wings are presently spread across the room. “Sorry we didn’t get to watch the western, Dean,” he says, sounding truly empathetic.

Dean glances over his family again and just shrugs, lightly patting the angel on his shoulder. "That's okay. This is nice too, Cas."


End file.
